


Long Distance Call

by mediwitch3



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Sexting, rude harry, rudeness, sexting turned phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediwitch3/pseuds/mediwitch3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s horny, bored, and far away. Louis is his victim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance Call

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sexting turned phone sex one shot for anon. I realized about half way through writing this that I was writing IHY Harry and Louis. You don’t need to read IHY to read this, as it is a stand alone, but the characters in here are the same as the ones in IHY. So enjoy. :)

Jay glared across the table at her son as his phone buzzed loudly. He tried discretely to answer it, but rosy cheeks betrayed him as his fingers tapped across the keypad to unlock it. His eyes widened slightly as he scanned over the message, mouth opening slightly when he saw who it was from. A hot flush washed over his body, goosebumps raising on his skin.

“Louis,” Jay admonished exasperatedly, “You know we don’t allow phones at the table.”

“I—sorry,” Louis muttered, moving the phone under the table to reread the message.

_I’m horny. ~Harry_

It was a simple message, nothing particularly dirty, but it went straight to Louis’ groin. He knew he couldn’t do this here, with his mum and sisters around him, as much as he wanted to.

_I’m at dinner. I can’t right now. ~Louis_

Harry’s answer was almost immediate, and nearly made Louis whine.

_So you’ll have to be quiet when you come in your pants. ~Harry_

_Harry, stop. I really can’t right now. ~Louis_

_You’re hot when you’re in denial. ~Harry_

_I’m not in denial, I just really can’t right now. ~Louis_

_You’re hard, aren’t you. ~Harry_

Louis choked as read Harry’s message, his pants tightening slightly. He spluttered a moment, finally swallowing his drink and looking guiltily up at his mum. Jay glared at him, looking pointedly at his phone.

“Louis,” she warned, “We hardly ever see you and when we do you’re texting your band mates. You could at least allow us one dinner with you.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” Louis told her, not making eye contact with any of the girls at the table, “I’m trying to get rid of him.”

“Who is it?” Lottie asked curiously. Louis blushed, clearing his throat and fiddling with the table cloth.

“It’s Harry,” he mumbled, pointedly ignoring the knowing looks he was sure his family was giving him.

“It’s always Harry,” Flick grinned, “When are you two gonna get married?”

“Flick!” Louis exclaimed, scandalized, “We’re not—it’s not like that. You know that.”

“All I know is that you two are inseparable and in love,” Flick shrugged, “and you’re too stupid to say something about it.”

“Flick,” Jay admonished, “That’s enough. What Louis does or doesn’t do about his feelings for Harry is his business.”

“Mum,” Louis whined, “Not you too! Honestly, we’re just—just friends.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” Lottie spoke up, “What are you hiding, Louis?”

Louis stayed silent mulling over his choices. He couldn’t exactly tell them that he and Harry were more than friends, but not quite together.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he told them, not looking up. His phone buzzed insistently on the table next to him, and he blushed brilliantly as he reached for it.

_I’m taking your silence as a yes. Come on, Lou. Play with me. ~Harry_

“Can I be excused?” Louis asked, fidgeting with his phone, “Please.”

“What did he say?” Jay asked, ignoring her son’s question.

“Nothing, but can I go?” Louis was starting to get a bit desperate. Jay rolled her eyes, waving her hand in assent.

“Don’t take too long,” she called after him, and he scrambled off.

Louis hurried through the hall, searching for the bathroom, where he was guaranteed not to be disturbed. The door swung shut behind him, and he pulled out his phone immediately calling Harry.

“Hello?” Harry’s voice was rough on the other end of the line.

“What the fuck are you playing at,” Louis demanded, “I’m with my family, Harry.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it,” Harry growled, “You wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t want to play.”

“I don’t—not right now,” Louis answered, “My mum already thinks there’s something going on, okay? Not right now.”

“So, you aren’t horny?” Harry asked, smirk evident in his voice, “You don’t miss my dick?”

“I— _no_ ,” Louis told him, his cheeks flushing involuntarily, “I don’t—”

“You wouldn’t want me to bend you over the table and fuck you,” Harry asked amusedly, “You wouldn’t want me to make you come all over your mother’s tablecloth?”

“I—” Louis was losing, and he knew it, “Fuck, Harry, I can’t—”

“Take your trousers off, Louis,” Harry instructed, cutting him off, “and your pants, too.”

“Shit,” Louis cursed quietly as he shucked the articles of clothing, “We’re actually doing this, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Are they off?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathed, leaning back against the sink, “They’re off.”

“Where are you?” Harry asked roughly.

“Bathroom,” Louis told him, shifting slightly as the cold washed over his naked lower half, “You?”

“Bedroom,” Harry answered, and Louis could hear the crinkling of the bed sheets as Harry shuffled into a more comfortable position, “It’s kind of surreal that I’m doing this in my childhood bedroom.”

“That’s so weird,” Louis said, “Don’t say that kind of stuff when we’re about to have phone sex, seriously.”

“Sorry,” Harry chuckled, not sounding sorry at all, “How hard are you?”

“Semi,” Louis answered, glancing down briefly to check.

“So,” Harry said pointedly, “Touch yourself.”

Louis sucked in breath, reaching down to do as he was told. He shifted the phone to his left hand, his palms going slightly sweaty as he began to stroke himself.

“Are you doing it?” Harry asked, his voice rougher than it had been. Louis nearly nodded, before he remembered he was on the phone.

“Yeah,” he breathed shakily, “I am.”

“Fingers,” Harry commanded, “In your arse.”

“I can’t because the phone—” Louis started, his voice wavering.

“So put me on speaker. I want your fingers in your ass, Tomlinson,” Harry growled out, sounding angry and aroused. Louis hastily did as he was told, trying not to drop the phone in the process. His fingers were slick with sweat as he tapped the buttons, nearly getting frustrated before he succeeded, Harry’s uneven breathing coming out of the speakers.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked, his hands trailing back to his erection, taking a hold of it.

“I’m wanking, what do you think I’m doing,” Harry snarled, and Louis’ breath hitched, a low moan crawling out of his throat, “Have you done what I said, yet?”

“No,” Louis groaned, tightening his hand around his shaft.

“Suck on them first,” Harry panted, “It’s bad to go in completely dry.”

Louis hurriedly shoved the fingers of his free hand into his mouth, moaning obscenely around his knuckles as he wrapped his tongue around his fingers.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed, the exhalation fogging up the line briefly, “You dirty whore.”

“Shit,” Louis cursed, removing his fingers and reaching behind himself. He took a deep, shaky breath, mentally preparing himself, before breaching himself. He bit his lip, pushing two fingers in passed the first knuckle, and tried desperately not to moan with relief.

“You’re doing it, aren’t you,” Harry rumbled through the phone, “You’re fucking yourself on your fingers.”

“It’s not enough,” Louis whined, pushing passed the second knuckle, “God,  _fuck_.”

“How many?” Harry asked.

“Two,” Louis replied, wiggling them and scissoring them to try and relieve the tension that was coiled in his groin.

“Add a third,” Harry instructed, moaning again, “You’re such a slut.”

“Fuck, Harry,” Louis keened, grinding down onto his fingers, a third having made its way inside him.

“You’re pretending it’s me, aren’t you,” Harry groaned lowly, “Fucking hell.”

“Shit, Harry, I can’t—” Louis cut himself off with another quiet moan, twisting his fingers inside him and around his member simultaneously, “Please can I come?”

“Oh god—” Harry cried out, and Louis knew that he’d come. He clamped down on his lip, speeding up his pace.

“Please, Harry,” he begged, “Please can I come?”

“Yeah,” Harry allowed breathlessly, “Come, Louis.”

Louis’ back arched off the sink as he came, ribbons of ejaculate painting his hand and his shirt a dirty white. He let out one more long, drawn out moan, Harry’s name hot on his lips.

“Well, fuck,” he breathed when he finished, looking down at his mess, “How am I supposed to explain this?”

“I dunno,” Harry smirked tiredly, “That’s your problem, mate. I’m going to go take a shower.”

“You’re a dick,” Louis told him, “I’ll see you when we get home.”

“See you,” Harry answered cheerily, hanging up without another word. Louis sighed, reaching for the toilet paper and wiping himself down. His shirt would need a wash—though how he would sneak it passed his mum, he had no idea.


End file.
